“Are you all right, dear?” asked Mrs Harris.
Startled, Pandora blinked and the shifting blue light disappeared. Had she imagined it? “I thought I saw something over there.”
“Really, dear?”
“Something nasty?” asked Sarah fearfully.
“Oh, no, my dear,” laughed Mrs Harris. “There’s nothing nasty round here. Nothing bad ever happens in Willowcombe Clatford!”
Chapter Six
Mrs Harris eventually moved on, worried that she would be late in getting dinner ready for her husband and family, leaving Mrs Laskaris to march her children to the gates of St Hilda’s. The last of the pupils had left and only one teacher remained in front of the school.
“Can I help you?” asked the man.
Pandora tried not to stare.
The twins, being younger, goggled in open astonishment.
The man was about fifty, with fluffy white hair and a grey moustache. He peered at them through rimless glasses while holding the lapels of his tweed jacket, thus revealing the leather elbow patches. He had on a patterned tank top and a bow tie, while his trousers were corduroy and his shoes a gleaming brown and white.
“Yes, um,” said Mrs Laskaris, flustered by the man. He would have been flayed alive in Lowell for looking so different to everyone else. “We’ve just moved here and the girls start school on Monday...”
“Ah, you are Mrs Laskaris,” replied the man. “I am Mr Gilchirst, the English teacher.”
“The English teacher?” asked Pandora.
“Well spotted,” smiled Mr Gilchirst. “Yes, this is a small school. We have but one tutor for each subject. I am, in fact, but a humble temporary teacher, filling the void left by the retirement of the previous English tutor, who dedicated her life to ensuring that no child in her class would ever be bothered by imagination.
“Your arrival has been prepared for and a suitable introduction to the school has been arranged for Monday morning,” continued Mr Gilchirst, rocking back on his feet slightly and peering at the blue sky. “Indeed, we have had several new faces starting at the school over the past few weeks. The new retail and business development park means we need to find places for many new students, while the village itself has had to adapt to the new housing development, as forced through by Councillor Sampson. How we shall fit them in I do not know, but that is the province of Miss Hill, the headmistress, who excels in such matters.”
“Is Miss Hill here now?” blurted Mrs Laskaris. “I would prefer–like to meet her.” If Mr Gilchirst was conscious of the slip he gave no sign, but instead continued to rock back and forth on his feet while smiling at something apparently three feet above their heads.
“Alas, unfortunately and regrettably, Miss Hill is attending a conference today, and I see by the empty staff car park, where alone my car awaits me, we have missed all the other teachers too. We usually stay behind to go over the day with Miss Hill, but when the cat is away the mice will undoubtedly take advantage to scamper off home early, is that not so?”
“Er, er,” said Mrs Laskaris, unable to get a word out.
Pandora grinned. She rather liked Mr Gilchirst. He didn’t seem to care what anyone thought about him.
“I do know that Miss Hill has written to you, care of your aunt, the redoubtable Miss Mabel Whitemarsh, asking the girls to be present at quarter to nine on Monday morning so that she may have a quick word before school starts. Until then, my dear Mrs Laskaris, you may as well let them run free this weekend. Monday will come soon enough.”
Pandora nodded. This was true. The weekend never seemed to last long enough, unlike the average school week, which seemed to go on forever.
“Well, er, thank you very much,” babbled Mrs Laskaris. “You’ve been very helpful and, er, helpful. Goodbye.” She almost yanked the twins off the ground as she backed away, leaving Pandora to smile and give a little wave as she followed.
Mr Gilchirst nodded back, a slight smile playing under his moustache as he locked the gates.
“He was nice,” said Pandora, catching up with her mother.
“You would think so,” snapped Mrs Laskaris as she pulled her family back to their new home.
“What does that mean?”
Mrs Laskaris was silent for a few moments before muttering, “I wonder if he’s been vetted properly by the authorities?”
“Mum! What a thing to say.”
“You can never be too sure,” said her mother darkly. “He had no wedding ring. What sort of man reaches his age without marrying?”
“He could be widowed or divorced or allergic to certain metals,” snapped Pandora. “And even if he isn’t married, what does it matter?”
“It matters a great deal, my girl. I want my children to be safe.”
“What, and you think we’re not safe around Mr Gilchirst just because he’s not married?” A sudden insight flashed across Pandora’s mind. “It’s not even that, is it? It’s the fact that he’s different! That’s why you’ve taken against him!”
“Rubbish!” snorted her mother, thereby revealing that Pandora was correct. “Right, let’s see what sort of mess your father is making of getting the furniture sorted.”
Chapter Seven
The house was in chaos. Boxes lay everywhere and furniture was placed in a haphazard manner around every room. In the middle of the chaos, Mr Laskaris was quietly establishing order.
“No, no, no!” wailed Mrs Laskaris, immediately in her element as she had something to complain about, thus placing herself in the middle of everything. “The books all have to go upstairs, except for the cookery books and the gardening books, they’re all clearly marked, that sofa should be in the other room, and why have you put the dining table in the back room?” Heedless of her husband’s protests that the back room would be far more pleasant to eat in than the front, offering as it did greater privacy and a cooler environment, Mrs Laskaris set to work organising the house and annoying both her family and the removal men.
“We’ll get the girl’s things upstairs first,” she announced. “That way, they can start their own unpacking. I’m not doing it for you,” she snapped to Pandora and the twins. This was almost true. She would indeed refuse to do the unpacking, but she would then reorganise everything that her daughters did, moving their furniture, clothes and possessions around until satisfied.
“Girls,” she continued to the twins. “Your room is on the next floor up, at the back, where it will be quieter for you. Your father and I will have the front room that overlooks the street, and I hope you appreciate the sacrifices we make for you.”
“Yes, Mummy,” chorused the twins, though neither could work out exactly what sacrifices were being made on their behalf, given that it was a very quiet road.
“Pandora, you’re on the top floor.” No explanation was given as to why Pandora was in the top bedroom, but Pandora guessed that she too was expected to appreciate whatever sacrifice had been made for her. She dashed upstairs, following the removal men as they carried her boxes to her new room.
The bedroom had been converted from the original attic. Looking up, Pandora could see the pointed roof of the house, plastered and painted a bright, cheerful white. Indeed, the whole room was very light and airy, thanks to two large windows set in either side of the roof. They gave rather good views of the village at the front and the woods behind. The removal men dropped the last of Pandora’s boxes down, followed by her bed, which they assembled in record time.
“There you go, love,” said one of them. “All ready for you to sort your stuff.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that and stay out of the way of Mum,” replied Pandora with a conspiratorial grin.
The men laughed as they left.
Pandora looked around, her grin widening. Her new room was twice the size of her old one, was far lighter and didn’t suffer from damp. She began to appreciate why her mother had been so keen to move. Everything she had seen so far did seem to be
much better than Lowell.
Pandora set about her boxes, unpacking her belongings. She didn’t have much in the way of possessions. She then turned her attention to her clothes, hanging her favourite items up neatly and shoving the rest into cupboards and shelves before sitting on the bed and taking a break, at which point her mother walked in.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “You’ve no time to be sitting there, not with all the work going on. If you can’t find something to do up here, I can find you plenty to do downstairs.”
How does she do it? wondered Pandora. It was uncanny. If Pandora had just wrestled an alligator before re-tiling the bathroom, her mother would walk in just as she was taking a five-minute rest. And probably complain about the dead crocodile on the floor.
“Yes, Mother,” replied Pandora with what she hoped was noticeable sarcasm. “I’ve just sorted my clothes, and now I’m going to do everything else.”
“See that you do. I’ve no time to do anything for you, not with your father making such a mess of things downstairs.” As she spoke, Mrs Laskaris began rearranging Pandora’s clothes on their shelves and re-hanging those in the wardrobe.
“I thought you didn’t have time to do that?” said Pandora through gritted teeth. She hated having her stuff messed with. Her mother had no idea about privacy. What was Pandora’s was also her mother’s, by some strange extension of matrilineal right.
“You haven’t done it properly,” snapped her mother as she refolded clothes and put them in different drawers for no obvious reason. Pandora breathed out heavily and wondered, not for the first time, how her father had failed to either divorce or murder his wife.
Chapter Eight
That evening, Pandora slipped from the house to explore Willowcombe Clatford.
She had already seen it with her family, but this was the proper exploration of the area, the solo journey to find out how the village worked when it thought no one was watching.
Getting out of the house was a little more difficult than in Lowell. There, Pandora had the help of the kitchen extension to drop onto from her bedroom window, but here it was a case of sneak out through the back door and into the fragrant garden. Then, it was a hop over the wall into the woods, which ran along the length of the village.
The moon was covered by clouds, so Pandora used a torch to pick her way along the track, stopping frequently to listen for any strange sounds. Unfortunately, the wood was full of strange sounds belonging, she assumed, to rabbits, foxes, badgers and whatever else lived in trees. She shone her torch into the bushes, and myriad creatures scuttled away in alarm.
She moved soundlessly until reaching the village, staying close to garden walls, bushes, trees, anything that provided shadows and cover. When a vehicle drove past, she seemed to melt away into the dark before emerging once more. She soon came to appreciate that Willowcombe Clatford was truly nothing like Lowell, where danger was always present from urban decay and human predators.
Here in Willowcombe, there were no drunks, drug abusers or thugs lurking on dark corners. No unattended children roamed the streets, setting fire to anything that would burn. There wasn’t even an empty lager can or a discarded cigarette end on the ground, the usual droppings of modern life. Pandora made her way back home. Perhaps she could relax and enjoy herself here. It was a new feeling, and one she was keen to share with the twins before going to bed.
“What’s it like out there?” whispered Sarah in fear as Pandora opened the door to their room. As always, the twins were still awake, waiting for the return of their big sister.
“Peaceful,” replied Pandora in a soft tone. “Everywhere was very quiet.”
“Really?” said Anne. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” said Pandora with a reassuring smile. “It seems we’re in a much nicer place.”
“Great!” exclaimed Sarah.
“You’re still going to check though, aren’t you?” asked Anne worriedly.
“Of course. Every night, if need be.” Pandora felt slightly guilty as she spoke, aware that her nightly walks were as much for her benefit as for the twins.
The twins smiled and relaxed.
“Night-night,” whispered Pandora, kissing each one lightly before quietly leaving the room. The girls were asleep almost instantly.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, the family went into the village to do their shopping.
Pandora would never have believed that shopping could be so sociable. Throughout the village, people stopped as they passed each other and exchanged smiling words. It was certainly a change from shopping in Lowell, where you kept your head down and hurried through the crumbling concrete centre, grabbing what you needed and getting out fast before any trouble erupted.
The new arrivals were of particular interest to the rest of the village and not one person went by without giving them a cheerful greeting. Some even stopped to talk, usually with the same opening phrase, which Pandora soon grew to hate. “Oh, you must be Mabel’s family!”
Many of the shoppers consisted of families. Pandora had never seen so many parents together before. It seemed that separation and divorce had never caught on in Willowcombe Clatford.
“Right,” said Mrs Laskaris eventually. “We need to get some vegetables first. There’s the greengrocer. In we go.”
Pandora looked at the shop. It was a double-fronted affair, each side made up of large panes of glass on which was etched Roger’s Greengrocer. Outside the shop were sacks of potatoes, parsnips, carrots, sprouts and many other vegetables. Fruit stood on tables on each side of the door, including huge red apples, long curved bananas, slices of moist watermelon and grapes so large and perfectly round that Pandora could scarcely believe they were real. Unlike the cheap produce on sale in Lowell, which was always bruised, tired and borderline rotten, the fruit and vegetable here did actually look good enough to eat.
“Can we have some of those grapes, please?” asked the twins simultaneously.
Mrs Laskaris looked surprised but pleased. Ordinarily, her family preferred crisps and chocolate. Not that she’d ever done much to change that.
Over the following twenty minutes, Mrs Laskaris brought many different types of fruit and vegetable, despite Pandora’s concern that her mother had no idea how to prepare the vegetables adequately, if at all. It seemed that in Willowcombe Clatford, Mrs Laskaris was determined to cook for her family rather than heat up microwave meals.
After a busy two hours, the shopping expedition was over. The family began the walk back to their new house but were inadvertently blocked by a dozen children, accompanied by a small terrier, running along the path. The boys all wore grey or black shorts and short-sleeved shirts, while the girls wore frocks. Everyone in the group was wearing old-fashioned sandals or plimsolls.
“Hello,” said one of the boys.
“Teddy!” said one of the girls. “You know you shouldn’t talk to grownups like that.” Teddy merely grinned as he looked at the Laskaris family.
“Hello,” said Sarah.
“We’re Sarah and Anne,” said Anne, finishing the sentence.
“I’m Teddy and this is Patch,” said Teddy, indicating the white dog, which had a single patch on its face. “Are you coming to play?”
This time, it was one of the boys in the group who looked horrified. “Teddy, you can’t just ask that, it isn’t right.”
“Why not?” demanded Teddy. “We’re all going to the quarry and they might want to come too. What’s the harm in asking?”
“Can we go, Mum?” asked the twins in unison.
“Well, I’m not sure,” said their mother.
Pandora gritted her teeth at her mother’s reaction. It wasn’t that she didn’t know–she always had to make any decision seem like a big deal.
“I’ll go with them,” said Pandora, taking control of the situation. She didn’t want her sisters’ chances of making new friends being spoiled by her mother’s sel
fish character.
“Good idea,” said Mr Laskaris, recognising what Pandora was doing and agreeing with her. “Fresh air, just what you all need.”
Mrs Laskaris looked rather put out at having the decision taken from her. “Be back by four, sharp!” she said to regain some control, despite the fact there was no real reason for anyone to be back by four.
Mr Laskaris watched his children run down the road and wondered if he too could escape anywhere for the afternoon.
Chapter Ten
Having continued down the street and across the green, carefully skirting the village cricket team, the children ran along Sampson Road which led to the brand new housing development, some of which was still under construction. The new houses were all modern in that they were small, boxlike and rather mean looking.
Pandora glanced back, and it flashed across her mind that the new development looked completely different from the old-world style of the original village. She also saw that the people already living on the development weren’t going into the village to do their shopping, preferring instead to use a tiny utility supermarket on the edge of the new estate. Only the children seemed to travel from the estate to the village and back again.
Before they reached the development, the children veered off onto a muddy track, which led to several large fields and an abandoned quarry. Huge, jagged cliffs rose up like broken teeth on the far side of the quarry before the smooth lines of the fields and woods continued once more. The bottom of the quarry was flooded from years of rainwater, creating a large pool. Bushes and grass grew in cracks on the ground and along the walls of the cliff face, as though an army of vegetation was advancing over the bare stone.
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